that So Cal
On the spot free verse 3
Tangled webs weave elastic.
Severed heads say fantastic.
Three thousand words amount to
Is it worth more or should I just make sure?
'Cause my rhymes worth two cents of your time,
a penny for your thoughts, but just a kiss for mine.
Why do I type?
'Cause my mind's too quick for pens and paper shredding
'Casue its too impatient for three letter headings.
Don't fear the speed,
Just read the label:
It says take once, and hate the fabeled.
(That's me and you and him and her.)
Ew: uh, duh?
Hmm: um, huh?
Simple thoughts, ecstatic emotion
like a couple of swirls wringing the wrong motion.
Rap rant equals mind-scape battle.
Don't wake up my dad or tattle.
I don't see the point to this blade.
Even when it cuts me asunder.
Oh wait, its made of thought-up thunder.
Just like a heavy screen
meant to edit and convene
on the threesome words that my head spits about
like athreesome caught and thrown out.
It's the innuendos and giggles
the midnight revelations and gestures
under the after-full-moon tickles.
Not my best, but the leftover verse.
Never could spit it out to be terse.
Ending comes out through the inside loop.
Beginning nostalgic from outside hoop.
12:13 AM - 12:21 AM